Parquet – Sparkles And Mud

Carton

The idea of a guitar band reproducing techno is an appealing one and having once experienced Nisenenmondai, that constant relentless repetition is irresistible. Drummer Seb Brun set up Parquet with a similar idea in mind and with Sparkles And Mud, their first long player, he and the group are off to a fine start.

Each member places a simple idea or pattern, be it one-note guitar spatter or a thick bass riff; and like nuclear fusion, the thing starts and begins to unfurl, elements dipping in and out, propelled ever forward by the elegant drumming. The listener’s tension is built as we wait for the subtlest of changes; a cymbal may suck in a breath or the guitar starts a faltering run at odds with the prevailing momentum and slowly but surely the landscape changes. What works beautifully here though is the group’s love of groove shines through when least expected, rendering everything dancefloor-ready and hip-shakingly sweet.

Techno bass riffs merge with air-raid electronics and elevate the drama; and if the band feel that enough has been included in a track, they are not afraid to tear it down and start again, fully understanding the sheer teasing joy of repetition with even Seb adding texture to ensure the right consistency. The interplay of guitar and bass is great, and the way they play around one another as the two very different sounds merge into a slightly discordant whole evokes images of that couple who finishes one another’s sentences but where the sentences never end. Suddenly, a spy film riff appears and the crackle of static introduces pure NY punk-funk, the beat shuffling in and out of focus, even embracing broken breakbeats stripped down.

All of the nine tracks here are built from different foundations, aiming for some sort of nihilistic endlessness, be it saw like guitar sounds and muffled motorcycle bass or gaseous synth textures against half-conscious four-to-the-floor beats. Each part of the mosaic is artfully installed and then subtly enhanced, ceding precedence to other players, not for solos but for a magnifying of the simplicity of the element. The purity of the vision is dazzling, with an alien take on slap bass funk surprising in its lost in translation funkiness. The end result certainly moves the hips, but it is almost by stealth; before you realise it, the toes are tapping.

Elsewhere, a harsh, clashing intro with guitars vaguely off-key revels in some textured feedback that that is the only diversion from the perverse insistence and the whole thing in its sheer spartan simplicity is utterly compelling. Drumless breakdowns segue into more meditative sections, with whoever is overlaying the electronic textures having a whale of a time, the squeezing of a thousand mice being the only parts not intent on the track’s kinetic energy.

Whoever imagined techno by a post-punk band with a funk bassist and electronic sound artist need look no further. Parquet have done a fantastic job of editing the album so that it runs almost like a mix, a relentless hour or so of slowly consuming waves of sound, a dichotomy of change and stasis where the simple haunting figures ally with the ever-present heartbeat at the base of all things.

Sparkles And Mud is just great and a late contender for album of the year. Well worth the near ten year wait.

-Mr Olivetti-